Warden

and warm, like a real human’s.
“Does my face have skin, too?” she asked, combing a strand of synthetic hair from her eyes. She touched her cheeks and felt the same warmth. She slid her fingers around her lips, nose, and chin.
“It does,” Will said. “But it dips into the uncanny valley a little bit. Have a look.”
She received a share request and accepted. A video transmitted from the viewpoint of Will’s drone, Gizmo, filled her vision so that she was looking at herself.
She was sitting up on the table. Her face was indeed made of the same kind of artificial skin as her upper chest, as was her neck. Her artificial cheekbones were high, and the skin covering them was blemishless. She had two almond-shaped eyes, which were slightly too large for a normal human, paired with a mouth that was a little too big. Her lips were a realistic red, however. She had a cute button of a nose, and synthetic hair that hung to either side of her face in a bob cut.
Will was right about the dip into the uncanny valley: with those eyes and mouth, she didn’t quite look human. Not that anyone would ever think she was, given the obviously robotic body attached below.
“You know, the tech is advanced enough to make faces that look completely human,” Will said. “In fact, the rich routinely swap their minds into human-seeming androids because they don’t like their physical attributes, or they just want to be young again, and only their friends could tell you that they’re cyborgs. My guess is you chose to exaggerate certain features because you wanted people to know without a doubt you weren’t entirely human.”
“Maybe so.” Her eyes had drifted to her forehead. The center was a raw red color, as if the area had been abraded or burned in some way.
She reached up. The area was raw and tender to the touch.
“I had a mark here,” she said. “What was it?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Will said. “Besides, it’s gone now. This is all part of giving you a clean slate. A mark on your head doesn’t define who you are, after all. Don’t worry, the redness will go away after a day or so, thanks to the healing properties of your artificial skin.”
“Will the skin grow back over the rest of my body?” she pressed.
He chuckled. “Now, now, your skin isn’t that regenerative. You’re going to have to purchase a base layer if you want to wrap up the rest of your body.”
She dismissed the video feed and swung her legs off the table and lowered her palms to the edge for balance. She concentrated on her feet, wiggling the toes and rotating the ankles.
When she felt ready, she lowered herself to the floor.
“Careful…” Will said.
When she touched the floor, she slid off the table so her legs could hold her full weight. Her body tilted very slightly to one side, thanks to the difference in length between her legs, but otherwise the robotic appendages held.
“Here, let me hold your hand.” Will reached out.
Stubbornly, Rhea ignored his hand and took a step on her own. Her stride seemed much shorter than she had expected, and she wasn’t ready when the floor contacted her heel.
She stumbled, and Will’s hand shot out, instantly wrapping around hers. Horatio grabbed her arm on the other side, and together they stabilized her.
“Try again,” Will said.
With the two hanging onto her, she took one step, then another. Her gait became more confident as she went.
“Feel good enough do to it on your own?” Will asked.
“Not really,” she responded. “But I have to walk on my own at some point…”
Will nodded. He exchanged a glance with Horatio, and then the two released her.
She held out her arms for balance as she continued forward on wobbly feet. It felt like she was walking on a tightrope, without the rope. Will and Horatio followed alongside, ready to assist if needed.
After a few steps she stumbled once more but recovered almost immediately. Even so, Will’s hand darted forward to help: she waved him away.
“She’s got this,” Horatio said.
After a few more steps, she felt confident enough to lower her arms. She hardly noticed the different lengths of her legs anymore.
“She’s doing it,” Horatio said.
She reached the far wall of the chamber and then turned around to pace to the other side. Ahead of her, she spotted the table illuminated by the lights, and realized it wasn’t actually a table, but rather a gurney lying on top of a crate of some sort. A pair of backpacks lay on the floor beside it.
“There you go…” Will commented encouragingly from beside her. “Now you’re walking like this is your natural body.”
Filled with a surge of gratitude, she threw her arms around him in a hug.
“Thank you so much for what you’ve done for me!” she said.
Will squeezed back, but then pushed her away, his dreadlocks dangling down in front of her. “Don’t get too mushy now. You did sign a contract, remember.”
“Oh, yeah,” she said, turning away.
She spotted an opening in the far wall and realized she was standing inside some sort of abandoned cargo container. Beyond, she could see a ruined city street, and the rebar-laden husk of a partially collapsed skyscraper.
She turned toward Will and noticed for the first time the pistol strapped to his waist. Horatio didn’t have such a weapon, though she did spot some wicked-looking double-barrels tucked away beneath his arms. Probably rifles of some kind, ready to deploy at a moment’s notice.
Will followed her gaze and shrugged. “The Outlands are a dangerous place. Not everyone is as upstanding as Horatio and me. Bandits and highwaymen roam these ruins, and they’re not averse to killing someone such as yourself for the spare parts. Speaking of which… here. You should probably put on some clothes, so you don’t look like such a tempting target. Horatio?”
Horatio delved into one of the big backpacks lying on the floor next to the table.
“Just clothes?” she